There's a Purple Cow in My Attic!

 

 

     When I nailed up my new shop sign,my friends all laughed. 

 

"The Great Elf Detective," it said.  "Solve any crime in

 

minimal time."

 

     Hardwinkle Dwarf slapped me on the back till the brass

 

buttons of my green suit jangled.  "Snap out of it Bucky," he

 

guffawed.  "You never solved any case."

 

     "I'm thinking positively," I replied tapping a nail in

 

with a hammar.  I knew I could be the greatest.  All was I

 

needed a chance to prove it.  So I sent an ad to the Fairy

 

Times Gazette:

 

For help with any

 

 Puzzling mystery write to

 

The Great Elf Detective,

 

Bucky Goodfellow,

 

The Fairy Wood, Rekab Tree 332C

 

 

     "That should do it," I chuckled.  But no.  Weeks went by. 

 

Not a letter, not a note, not a postcard.

 

     "Bucky."  My mother sighed.  "Why can't you be happy as a

 

shoe cobbler?  Your father and grandfather were shoe

 

cobblers."

 

     "But I'm not my father or grandfather, " I said, sorting

 

the day's mail.  I grabbed a large, lavender envelope.

 

"Look!" I tapped my wooden heels together with glee.   "It's

 

addressed to the Great Elf Detective!"

 

     I ripped it open and found a note written in huge purple

 

letters:

 

Dear Mr. Goodfellow,

 

     There's a purple cow in my attic!  At least when I wake

 

up every morning another Violet Curly Grass plant has been

 

munched off.  So my house must be haunted by a purple cow.  I

 

heard they live in attics.  Do you think it could be

 

dangerous?

    

     If you could help me I would be

 

 

Gratefully Yours,

   

Jilette the Giantess

 

Hyacinth Estates, Violet Mansion 256B

 

 

     "A purple cow?"  I scratched my chin.  "In an attic?

 

Mother, please hand me the Encyclopedia of Legendary

 

Creatures."

 

     I opened the encyclopedia and read,  "A mythical violet-

 

colored beast who haunts attics.   Its staple food is Violet

 

Curly Grass, which stains it such an unusual color."

 

     "This is a dire situation," I gasped.  "I'll leave at

 

once."  Jamming my feathered red cap on my head, I bolted out

 

the door.

 

     I had no trouble finding Jillette's huge purple mansion.

 

As I scurried up the marble walkway, Jillette plodded out to

 

meet me, wearing mud-spattered gardening boots. Her eyebrows

 

squinted together from worry wrinkles and she carried a spade

 

and trowel in each hand. 

 

     "Hello, Mr. Goodfellow," she said, peering down at me

 

through the bifocles perched on her nose.  "I'm sorry for

 

staring, but I'm a bit nearsighted.  Have you any thoughts on

 

the case, yet?"

 

     "First I should look at the scene of the crime."  I

 

whipped out a notepad and took a pencil from behind my ear. 

 

"Please proceed Ms. Jilette."

 

     I followed her around the mansion.  "Here's my plot of

 

curly grass," she announced, pointing to several rows of

 

grape-colored, corkscrewed grass.  Dew-like beads of

 

purple juice oozed from the grasses and dribbled to the

 

ground.

 

     I jotted down details.  A plum orchard standing on one

 

side of the grass plot. A line of wisteria bushes marching

 

down the other.  A purple splotched bird preening in a purple

 

nest.

 

     "The Mottled Karvex." Jilette pointed at the bird as it

 

swayed in a wisteria bush.  "I love birdwatching and

 

gardening."

 

     I nodded, inspecting the ground.  No hoof prints, I

 

wrote on my notepad. "It seems the curly grass had been

 

pulled or snapped off.  Not bitten."  I held a magnifying

 

glass over the dry, withered grass stalks.  "See?  No

 

teeth marks."

 

     "What does it mean?"  Jilette nibbled her

 

fingernails.  "A purple cow with arms?"

 

     "Hmm."  I scratched my chin.  "Probably not.  But we

 

should consider any possibility."  I jotted in my notepad: A

 

mutant cow with arms?

 

      I flipped my notepad shut.  "If there's a purple cow it

 

would hide in your attic during the day.  Let's take a look."

 

     We scoured the attic all afternoon, but turned up

 

nothing but a cloud of dust and a  purple draped sofa.  

 

Jilette went into sneezes and hysterics.  "There's only one

 

thing left to do," I said once she calmed down.  "We must

 

watch the garden tonight and try to catch the thief."

 

     After twilight we crouched behind a plum tree

 

and Jilette crouched behind a tree.  Jillette bit her lip and

 

wrung her hands.  "Stop whimpering," I hissed, raising my

 

binoculars.  "It'll give us away."

 

     Night fell and the stars popped out.  In the moonlight, I

 

kept track with my pocket watch.  By midnight nothing had

 

happened.  One o'clock, the two in the morning.  Jilette

 

yawned.

 

     At five thirty, we were both half asleep.  Then, just as

 

the pale gray dawn cracked the eastern sky, the wisteria

 

bushes rustled.

 

     Jilette jerked awake.  "Here it comes."  She raised the

 

big black cane she'd brought.

 

     We stared at the lavender-blossomed bushes.  Suddenly a

 

splotched purple shape darted from the bush and landed in the

 

curly grass.

 

     "It's your Mottled Karvex," I sighed.

 

     "Oh."  She lowered the cane, sounding relieved.  "I guess

 

the purple cow isn't going to come."

 

     "Wait."  I pointed to the Karvex.  "What's the bird

 

doing?"

 

     "I can't see."  She squinted.  "My eyes, remember?"

 

     I scratched my head.  "It think it's pulling up the

 

curly grass.  Ms. Jilette if you have a bird book handy I

 

believe I can solve the mystery."

 

     We hurried inside and Jilette led me to her library.  I

 

flipped through a book on bird species to "Mottle Karvex." 

 

     "Just as I thought," I said.  "The Mottled Karvex uses

 

Violet Curly Grass to build its nest.  The baby Karvi love

 

curly grass juice.  It's what splotches them purple. 

 

There's your thief, Jilette!"  I slammed the book down

 

triumphantly.

 

     "I -- I don't understand."

 

     "Ms. Jilette," I explained, "the Mottled Karvex has been

 

taking your curly grass.  The only purple cow here is in your

 

imagination." "

 

     "No purple cow?" Jilette frowned as she thought.

 

     "None.  Just some baby birds that need your curly grass

 

to live."

 

     "Oh the poor things!" she exclaimed.  "Why, they can have

 

all they want.  Now, would you like some breakfast, Mr.  

 

Goodfellow?"

 

     "I'm starving."  Pulling out my notepad, I followed

 

her to the dining room.  I licked my pencil and proudly

 

scribbled: the Case of the Purple Cow is closed.

 

     Just wait till Hardwinkle Dwarf hears about this!

   


Comments:
 
Henrietta   Henrietta wrote
on 4/21/2010 1:35:47 AM
My grandkids will love this story. Thanks for sharing it.

jeremiah   jeremiah wrote
on 4/18/2010 1:15:31 PM
l loved the storyline and it shows you have a definite insight into children. There are sure to be more adventures for the detective. looking forward to reading more

LeslieMD   LeslieMD wrote
on 4/7/2010 4:34:05 PM
Thank you, hope it makes you giggle. Any comments are appreciated, especially since its different in a way. Doesn't seem to fit with most of the children's magazine markets. Also its a couple years old now. Probably some revisions I could make to it!

Bluez   Bluez wrote
on 4/6/2010 7:38:05 PM
Very interesting how you put this together, I enjoyed reading it as far as I did, but I have to leave and will come back and finish the last part.

LeslieMD
Children's Stories
Non-Illustrated
writing LeslieMD
further up and further in...
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Synopsis
wacky fantasy mystery for kids
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